


Sardines

by Fr333bird



Series: The Muggle Games Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-27
Updated: 2012-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-31 20:19:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fr333bird/pseuds/Fr333bird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to Anyone For Scrabble. Another inter-house unity night brings Harry and Draco even closer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sardines

**A/N: This is a sequel to Anyone for Scrabble, which you can find on my profile, so it’s best to read that first, although this will still make sense on its own as there’s not an awful lot of plot.**

**Thank you to the lovely Sadtomato for betaing this super fast so that I could post it straight away.**

 

“I wonder what McGonagall has in store for us tonight?” Ron grumbled as they headed down to the Eighth Year Common Room from the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory. “These inter-house unity nights are getting old really fast.”

“Yeah,” Harry replied absent-mindedly as they took a seat on one of the large squashy sofas. 

His head was full of images of what had happened on last Saturday’s inter-house unity night. Blond hair, pale skin and scattered scrabble tiles filled his thoughts and he felt a rush of uncomfortable heat to his groin.

For the last week he’d been able to think of little else. He hadn’t spoken to Malfoy since, apart from in passing, or in lessons when required to. But he had been constantly aware of the Slytherin’s presence when they were in the same room together. Harry found himself looking surreptitiously at Malfoy, admiring the curve of his arse as he stirred his cauldron in Potions class, or the grip of his slender fingers on his wand in Transfiguration. 

But whenever he let his eyes stray to the blond, Malfoy always seemed to catch him looking. The grey eyes would flick up to meet Harry’s and his lips would twitch in something that almost looked like a smile. But Harry would flush and tear his eyes away before he could be sure whether it was a real smile, or just a knowing smirk.

Harry’s attention was torn back to the present by the arrival of the boy himself. 

Flanked by Pansy and Blaise, Malfoy swept in regally and perched elegantly on the edge of a table, his long legs stretched out in front of him. As usual, Harry was unable to tear his eyes away until the Slytherin’s eyes sought him out. Harry steeled himself to hold Malfoy’s gaze this time and was rewarded by a small, but genuine smile that sent tendrils of warmth uncurling in his chest. Merlin, he wanted a chance to touch Malfoy again.

The moment was broken by McGonagall bustling in and clapping her hands to get their attention. As the chatter subsided and all eyes turned to her, she looked at them over the top of her spectacles and started to speak.

“Alright, Eighth Years. We have something a little different for you to try this evening. Instead of board games, tonight you’ll be playing traditional Muggle parlour games.” Whispers break out, and looks of confusion show on the faces of the students from pure-blood families. She continues. “Parlour games are games that Muggles used to play for entertainment in the days before they had televisions and computers. All of the instructions are written down for you and I’ll be assigning you into mixed house groups as usual.”

Five minutes later, Harry found himself standing around awkwardly while Hermione opened the envelope for their group and started to read. He was finding it hard to pay attention because he was far too distracted by the fact that Malfoy was in the same group as him. This meant that they were now in closer proximity than they’d been all week.

There were eight of them in the group altogether -- Harry, Ron and Hermione along with Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini; plus Hannah Abbot from Hufflepuff and Terry Boot from Ravenclaw.

“Sardines,” Hermione’s voice rang out authoritatively. “The players take turns to hide while the rest of the group look for them. When you find the person who’s hiding, you hide with them while the rest of the group continues to search. When the last person finally finds the rest of the group, the game is over and another person takes a turn at hiding. You have two hours to play and will meet back in the common room to debrief at the end of the session.”

“What?” Ron frowned in confusion. “So we all have to squeeze into the same hiding place together? That’s silly. It will make it way too easy to people to find us.”

“And how does anyone win?” Zabini’s lip curled in disdain. “It sounds utterly pointless if you ask me.”

“Nobody _did_ ask you,” Hermione replied tartly. “And the point is, that it’s supposed to be fun and a co-operative, team-building experience. Which is what Inter-house Unity Night is all about.”

“Oh, come on then,” Malfoy drawled. “Let's get it over with. Who wants to hide first?”

They all shrugged, no one putting themselves forward. 

“Let’s just draw lots shall we?” Hermione suggested, seemingly unable to resist the urge to organise the rest of them. 

She conjured a small piece of parchment with a flourish of her wand, and it hovered in the air in front of her. A few precise strokes made the numbers one to eight appear on it at regularly spaced intervals. Then she ended with a slicing move that spelled the parchment into eight small pieces that fluttered to the floor landing face down. 

Harry looked at Malfoy, and noticed a fleeting expression of grudging admiration on his face that was quickly changed to one of careful disinterest when he caught Harry’s eyes on him.

“Right, everybody pick one,” Hermione said, and they all stooped to snatch a square of paper from the floor. “Whoever has number one goes first, then we’ll work our way through the others.”

Harry looked at his piece. Number eight. _Oh well_ , he thought. _I guess someone has to go last_. 

“I’ve got number one,” Zabini rolled his eyes, looking bored already. “How long are you going to give me to find somewhere?”

“Five minutes,” Hermione said promptly. 

“Merlin, Granger, are you always so bossy?” Draco rolled his eyes. “Is she like this in the sack, Weasley? That must be interesting.” 

Hermione glared at him and turned scarlet while Ron spluttered unhelpfully.

“Shut it, Malfoy,” Harry said, levelling his gaze at the other boy who just smirked and shrugged. 

“What? It’s what everyone wonders.”

Zabini cleared his throat. “Delightful though this little conversation is, we have a tediously dull activity to complete... shall I go and hide then?”

“Yes,” Hermione recovered herself, casting a five minute countdown _Tempus_. “Go!”

oO-I-Oo

They split up and went their separate ways at first. Harry looked in a few likely places, assuming that Zabini wouldn’t have got too far in five minutes. After poking his head round a few doors and listening for any sign of life Harry finally got lucky when he entered the History of Magic classroom. A scuffling noise and a stifled ‘shhhh’ led him to the large desk at the front of the classroom.

In the dark alcove under the desk, he found Zabini, Ron and Pansy sitting with their knees tucked up. Harry grinned and joined them quickly, sliding in beside Pansy. 

“There’s not much space left for three more people,” he observed.

“I think that’s the point of the game, Potter,” Pansy whispered. “The close proximity is good for group bonding,” she wriggled a little closer to Ron who flashed Harry a look of alarm. 

They fell silent as they heard the sound of the classroom door opening. Footsteps approached and paused for a moment and then moved again, getting closer. A blond head poked around the corner peering in. Harry’s breath caught in his throat as the silver-grey eyes locked on his. 

Malfoy grinned at them all and slipped deftly in to the last available space beside Harry, folding his long limbs gracefully as he wiggled his arse back and jostled his shoulders against Harry’s.

“Shove over, Potter,” he murmured, the sound of his voice making the hairs on the back of Harry’s neck prickle. 

They fell silent again as they waited to be found by the others. As the seconds ticked by, Harry was constantly aware of the warm pressure of Malfoy’s body, jammed against his own in the cramped space. He felt his body respond and tried desperately not to shift uncomfortably and give himself away. His cock was trapped painfully in his trousers. Only the thought of the potential mortification at being caught doing it, stopped him from reaching down to adjust himself. 

One by one the others found them and Harry knew that he’d be able to move away from Malfoy soon. But having to pull his legs in even closer to his body, to make space for the other players to crouch under the desk in front of him, only made his half-hard cock even more squashed.

By the time the last person -- Hannah -- found them, they all piled out giggling and grumbling. Harry nearly sighed in relief at the blissful release of pressure on a certain part of his anatomy.

oO-II-Oo

The second hiding place was a poorly lit alcove behind one of Hogwarts’ many statues, in one of the corridors near the Eighth Year common room. Harry was the first person to find Hermione, who was hiding, and then Malfoy appeared shortly afterwards. He pressed up behind Harry in the small space and Harry shivered as Malfoy’s warm breath tickled his neck with every exhale. He could feel Malfoy’s body close behind his as the space was gradually filled with more bodies. Malfoy was careful not to push his hips right into Harry’s arse, keeping just enough space between them that Harry wasn’t able to tell whether the blond was affected by the situation. Harry was grateful, he was already fully hard and doing his utmost not to prod Hermione with his erection. He didn’t want to have it hexed off by her, or by Ron if she commented on it.

oO-III-Oo

The third person to hide was Pansy. Harry took a while to find her. By the time he ventured nervously into the Ravenclaw girl’s dormitory he was starting to think he’d never find them. But when he heard a stifled curse and a giggle coming from the huge wardrobe that stood against one wall, he grinned in satisfaction.

“Found you!” He muttered as he pulled open one side of the double doors and peered in.

“Quick, Harry!” Pansy’s hand shot out and grabbed him by his robes, yanking him in.

Someone pulled the door into place behind him as Harry’s eyes adjusted to the almost total lack of light in the interior of the wardrobe. The clothes had all been squeezed to one side and there were five bodies crammed into the small space. Harry managed to make out Zabini, Hermione, Boot and Hannah as well as himself and Pansy. He shuffled in closer and tried to get comfortable without treading on anyone’s foot or elbowing anyone in the ribs.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute or so before the door was pulled open from the outside and an impatient voice snapped.

“Move your arse, Potter! I can’t get in.”

Harry obediently squeezed in a little further and then stiffened as he felt strong hands grab his hips and the press of a firm body behind him. A mortifying squeak escaped his lips at the contact.

“Oh shush, Potter,” Malfoy murmured, his lips perilously close to Harry’s ear. “I’m not trying to molest you... _yet_.” 

The last word was whispered so quietly that no one but Harry could have heard it, even in the confined space. It was the merest breath of sound, but it made Harry’s legs suddenly weak with desire. His heart pounded and heat rushed through him. And then Malfoy pushed a little closer, and suddenly Harry could feel that Malfoy was just as hard as he was. He had to bite his lip to stop himself from moaning at the contact.

The next ten minutes were delicious torture as Malfoy breathed against Harry’s ear and kept a tight grip on his hips, holding his arse exactly where he wanted it -- which also happened to be exactly where Harry wanted it.

When Ron finally found them Malfoy released Harry’s hips and they stumbled out, blinking in the suddenly bright light of the room. Harry was careful to avoid Malfoy’s eyes; he didn’t think he could look at him without giving himself away.

oO-IV-Oo

As Harry was roaming the corridors looking for the fourth person to hide, it suddenly occurred to him that it was a bit of a coincidence that Malfoy had been right on his tail -- literally and metaphorically -- for the first three rounds of the game.

The thought made him slow down and listen. He was in a dark section of corridor outside some mostly disused classrooms. As he moved, quietly now, he thought he heard the sound of stealthy footsteps behind him. Not wanting to show that he was suspicious, he didn’t turn around but picked up his pace again. He whipped around the next corner and then stopped and waited.

Sure enough a few moments later he heard the quiet sound of someone approaching cautiously and as Malfoy appeared around the corner Harry grinned triumphantly.

“Are you stalking me, Malfoy?” He enquired, raising his eyebrows in amusement.

Malfoy flushed delightfully. Harry had to admit that he rather enjoyed seeing the usually cool Slytherin looking uncomfortable. 

“In your dreams, Potter,” Malfoy tried to rally, but Harry could tell that he knew it was a weak come-back.

“Funny you should say that,” Harry quipped, and then flushed at his own boldness. _Where the fuck had that come from?_

Malfoy didn’t reply, but he stepped closer. His eyes were dark and predatory and a delicious shiver curled down Harry’s spine. Harry looked up at Malfoy’s pale face as the Slytherin leaned in, slowly closing the gap between them. Harry couldn’t breathe with the longing to feel Malfoy’s lips on his.

The sudden sound of an audible sneeze from a little further along the corridor made them spring apart guiltily, and Harry nearly groaned in frustration.

“Oh well, looks like we’ve found them, Potter.” Malfoy looked disappointed. “Hold that thought.”

They walked in the direction of the sound. Harry pulled back an old tapestry to find Ron, Hannah and Hermione hiding in an alcove that was concealed behind it.

“I’m sorry,” Ron was apologising to Hannah who was wrinkling her nose and wiping her shoulder. “It’s the dust.”

Malfoy put his hand in the small of Harry’s back, propelling him into the dark space and then left it there as the tapestry swung back into place behind them. 

It was almost pitch black, hardly any light from the corridor seeped through at all. This hiding place was larger than the others had been so far, but Malfoy crowded Harry anyway. He said nothing but Harry could feel the warm wash of his breath just behind his left ear and the hand on the small of his back started to move, slowly, imperceptibly downwards.

Harry was horribly aware that there were three other people right there, just inches away from him. 

Malfoy’s hand slid down to cup his arse and he felt the long fingers teasing insistently, rubbing small, careful circles on his sensitive flesh through the thick fabric of his robes. He felt a sudden insane urge to vanish his clothing, wanting desperately to feel those fingers on his bare skin. He bit on the inside of his cheek, fighting to control his breathing. 

Eventually, they were discovered by Zabini and Pansy who arrived together and bundled in behind Draco, pushing Harry towards Ron. Harry had a moment of panic at the prospect of poking Ron in the arse with his painfully erect prick, so instinctively twisted his body around until he was facing Malfoy instead.

_Oh, Sweet Merlin._

His nose was now jammed against Malfoy’s neck and Harry gasped a shocked breath as the hand that had been on his arse now slipped through the gap in the front of his robes and wheedled its way under his t-shirt to stroke the bare skin of his hip with feather-light touches. 

Harry inhaled again and felt dizzy as the warm, clean boy-scent of Malfoy sent his senses reeling. He heard the sound of Malfoy swallowing hard, right next to his ear, and fought a crazy desire to turn his head and lick him, to seek out his adam’s apple with his tongue.

He was saved from his insanity by the arrival of Boot who pulled the tapestry aside. Malfoy’s hand instantly dropped away from Harry’s waist but there was no room for them to move apart. Harry caught Pansy looking over Malfoy’s shoulder at him with an alarmingly knowing smirk on her face.

“Am I the last one?” Boot asked. “Okay then, whose turn is it to hide next?”

“I’m five, so it’s me,” Ron replied, as they extricated themselves from each other and piled back out into the comparative brightness of the corridor.

“Number six is me,” Boot offered. “Then who’s still left to hide after that?”

“I’m number seven,” Malfoy replied, “so Potter must be last.”

He grinned at Harry, the picture of innocence. If Harry didn’t still have the hard-on to prove it he’d almost think that he’d imagined the touch of Malfoy’s hand in the darkness behind the tapestry.

oO-V-Oo

Malfoy didn’t even pretend that he wasn’t following Harry this time. They hung back a little when the others started searching and stuck together as they looked for Ron.

The tension between them was still there but neither of them acted on it. Harry felt it though, like the prickle of magic but even more exciting. He had the feeling that Malfoy was planning something and the thought made him shiver with anticipation.

Ron chose a rather boring and brightly lit place to hide, much to Harry’s disappointment, as it severely limited the groping opportunities. They were the first to find Ron, hiding in the prefect’s bathroom. Ron gave Harry a strange look when he entered with Malfoy but Harry ignored it. The exhilaration of Malfoy’s flirting had effectively annihilated any worries that he might have had about the suspicions of others. 

The size of the room meant that there was no shortage of space; so they just sat around waiting to be found in uncomfortable silence. All three of them studiously avoided each other’s eyes.

oO-VI-Oo

When it was Boot’s turn to hide, Harry and Malfoy searched together again. After trying a few classrooms and checking the doors of some storage cupboards, they headed back towards the new Eighth Year House.

“Gillyweed.” Harry muttered the password to the carved wooden dragon that adorned the panel across the entrance. The panel slid aside and they entered together. The common room was still occupied by other groups of students playing different types of parlour games. 

“Let’s try the dormitories,” Malfoy suggested. 

He led the way and Harry followed, longing to grope Malfoy’s arse as he ascended the stairs ahead of him, but not quite daring to make a grab for it. He still couldn’t quite believe that Malfoy really wanted him and he was afraid of making an idiot of himself. 

After several false attempts they finally found Terry Boot and Pansy looking rather cosy underneath one of the large four poster beds in the Ravenclaw boys’ dormitory. They were a little breathless and their lips were suspiciously wet.

“Don’t let us stop you,” Malfoy chuckled as they lay down and wriggled under the bed to join them. “I’m sure Potter and I can manage to occupy ourselves for a while. The whole point of the exercise is inter-house unity after all. I’m glad to see you’re getting into the spirit of things, Pansy. McGonagall would be proud.” 

Malfoy reached behind and grabbed Harry’s hip, pulling him close so that Harry’s cock was flush with his arse. “Come on, Potter, squeeze in. There are still four more people to get under here you know.”

As they lay and waited to be found, Malfoy’s hand sneaked around and Harry nearly yelped when he felt it burrow into his robes and then slip into the front pocket of his trousers. There was a crackly feeling and Harry realised that Malfoy had slipped a note in his pocket. As Malfoy withdrew his fingers he deliberately ran his fingers along Harry’s now-very-erect-again prick, and Harry jerked reflexively, his forehead jolting against Malfoy’s shoulder.

“Do stop wriggling, Potter,” he drawled. “You’re such a fidget.”

Harry decided that he wasn’t going to let Malfoy get away with that. Determined to ensure that Malfoy was as frustrated as he was, he reached for the pert arse that was nestled against his hips and set about touching every bit that he could reach with surreptitious squeezes and strokes of his fingers. 

Malfoy kept pretty quiet after that, but when Harry ran his fingers along the crack of his arse, Harry felt the whole of the Slytherin’s body shudder. He grinned in silent satisfaction and continued his exploration, not stopping even as the space under the bed gradually filled up with more bodies. 

Hermione was the last person to find them. By then Malfoy was practically quivering and Harry could feel the heat of his body radiating off him, even through his robes.

They crawled out from under the bed, brushing the dust off their clothes and stretching cramped limbs.

“Right then,” Malfoy straightened his robes, looking uncharacteristically flushed. “My turn next.”

Harry tried to catch his eye, looking for a clue as to where he might hide. But Malfoy studiously avoided his gaze. Harry reached into his robes and shifted his erection to a more comfortable position, and his hand felt the crackle of parchment in his pocket. _Of course!_ He tried not to grin like an idiot, but he caught Hermione giving him a rather odd look so he probably hadn’t been entirely successful.

oO-VII-Oo

As soon as he was alone, Harry pulled the note from his pocket and unfolded it carefully.

_Broom cupboard, near the Charms classroom. Make sure you get there first; I want you all to myself for a while._

Harry set off at a run, not even attempting to suppress and idiotic grin now.

He reached the broom cupboard and threw the door open, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw that Malfoy was alone.

“Nice work, Potter,” Malfoy grinned. “Now get the fuck in here and close the door.”

It was pitch black inside once the door was pulled shut, but determined hands grabbed Harry and pulled him in the right direction. The right direction, as far as Harry was concerned, was most definitely into Malfoy’s arms. 

Harry moaned embarrassingly as their lips made contact; Malfoy’s parting soft, moist and welcoming against his own. Their tongues touched and slid and their hands were all over each other, exploring, touching, feeling. But then Malfoy broke away, his breathing ragged in Harry’s ear as he pressed their cheeks together. Harry growled in frustration and brought his hands to Malfoy’s face, cupping his cheeks and trying to pull the blond’s mouth back to his own.

“Wait... before we get distracted and I forget.” Malfoy whispered. “I have a suggestion for your hiding place.” His voice was just a soft hush of breath against Harry’s lips. 

“Okay,” Harry gasped. He’d agree to anything, if only Malfoy would hurry up and kiss him again.

“The laundry store room, near Hufflepuff house.”

“Sure,” Harry nodded. “Whatever. Now shut up and kiss me.”

Malfoy’s chuckle was stifled by Harry’s mouth as Harry pressed their lips together, taking charge, needy and impatient.

Harry had no idea how much time passed as they snogged and groped each other enthusiastically. Malfoy’s hands seemed to manage to get everywhere, and Harry did his best to reciprocate. Arses were squeezed. Erections were grabbed. Hands slid up under clothing and fingertips grazed across nipples. And when Malfoy slipped his hand down the front of Harry’s trousers and curled his fingers around Harry’s cock, while simultaneously licking the shell of Harry’s ear with a warm, wet tongue, Harry thought he was about to come in his pants.

But the sound of the door handle turning made them leap apart and frantically rearrange their robes.

“Laundry store room,” Malfoy hissed. “Don’t forget.”

Ron’s head popped around the door and his eyes narrowed as he saw Malfoy and Harry together and alone.

oO-VIII-Oo

By the time the last person had found them in the broom cupboard, Harry felt like he was going to explode with impatience.

When Hermione cast the five minute Tempus for his time to hide, Harry set off at high speed. He raced through the corridors, the thud of his feet echoing off the flagstones. He reached the laundry store room and pulled the door closed behind him.

It was a smallish room, but nothing like as cramped as some of the hiding places. It was also reasonably well-lit, with a small window set high in the stone wall. The space was mostly filled with wide wooden slatted shelves on either side of a narrow aisle. The shelves contained piles and piles of freshly washed and folded bed linen and towels. Permanent warming charms kept the atmosphere dry and pleasantly warm. 

Harry settled back, leaning against one of the shelves and waited impatiently.

Malfoy was out of breath when he arrived. He burst through the door, and then closed it behind him. He pulled out his wand and performed not just one but several complicated locking spells.

“Wow, that should be bomb-proof.” Harry was impressed. “But what about the game? They’re _supposed_ to be able to find us.”

Malfoy turned towards him with a deliciously dirty smile that made Harry’s legs feel like water.

“Fuck the game,” he said deliberately as he advanced on Harry. “I think that _this_ is a little more important than a stupid Muggle parlour game, don’t you?”

Harry grinned and nodded, reaching for Malfoy and tangling his fist in his robes, pulling him close. 

They kissed, hot and messy and desperate. The sexual tension that had been building throughout the last couple of hours finally spilling out and curling around them as they fell into each other’s arms. It was all a bit frantic, but incredible at the same time. Tongues licked, teeth scraped and hands tore at clothing. A button went flying and Harry had no idea whether it was one of his, or one of Malfoy’s. They pushed each other’s robes off, letting them drop to the floor by their feet. Malfoy pulled impatiently at Harry’s t-shirt, nearly strangling him as he got it stuck around Harry’s neck.

“Stop!” Harry gasped, “Let me!” He untangled himself and threw his t-shirt aside.

“Bloody infuriating Muggle clothes,” Malfoy grumbled, hurriedly undoing his own buttons with practised twists of his slender fingers. Harry helped him slide it from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor on top of his robes. 

Malfoy launched himself back at Harry, bending him slightly backwards against the shelves as the warm skin of their bodies met at last. Harry felt as though he was drowning, swamped in sinfully delicious sensation as Malfoy kissed and licked and sucked at his neck, moving lower to nip and nibble on Harry’s nipples while his hands started plucking at the button of Harry’s trousers.

“Unless I’m very much mistaken, Potter,” Malfoy murmured against the skin of Harry’s belly as he sank to his knees on the floor. “I owe you a rather spectacular blow job.” His fingers made fast work of Harry’s fly and he grabbed Harry’s trousers and pants, shoving them down around his knees. “And I think it’s high time I repaid you.” His hot breath tickled Harry’s pubic hair as he ran the tip of his nose along the silky-hot skin of Harry’s prick. 

“ _Fuck_... please!” Harry looked down, as Malfoy’s grey eyes turned up to meet his.

“Maybe another time Potter,” he chuckled. “But now I just want to suck you.”

Harry was absolutely okay with that.

And Malfoy was as good as his word -- spectacular being the operative one. He teased Harry with his tongue, licking every inch of his cock and lapping at his balls until Harry thought that he might come before he even got his cock into that beautiful mouth. He let his fingers tangle in the pale silvery-blond strands of the Malfoy’s hair and tugged on it with increasing impatience as his hips hitched. Harry was damned if he was going to beg, but his body was giving him away.

Malfoy looked up at him and grinned. He licked away a drop of pre-cum from the tip of Harry’s cock, making Harry hiss and buck his hips again. Still keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Harry, the blond brought the middle finger of his right hand up to his perfect pink lips. Harry watched, impossibly turned-on, as Malfoy drew the finger into his mouth and sucked on it, making it good and wet.

Malfoy finally wrapped his lips around the head of Harry’s prick and started to suck. At the same time he reached between Harry’s legs with his hand. Harry’s legs nearly buckled at the dual sensation of a hot, wet mouth around his cock and a finger circling insistently around the sensitive skin of his hole. 

“Oh _fuck_ , Malfoy!” he gasped, his fingers tightening in the blond hair. “You should know... this isn’t going to take long.”

Malfoy just responded by sucking harder, taking him deeper and pressing harder with his finger. Harry gave himself up to the heat that was rippling through him, consuming him. He felt his balls tighten and his legs quivered. Malfoy’s finger slipped inside him with a shock of new, but rather wonderful sensation, and he was almost there. Just as he was teetering on the brink of orgasm he heard the sound of the door being rattled and the very audible sound of Hermione’s voice.

“Well, this seems to be locked so I don’t think Harry can be inside here, Ron. Damn, where on earth could be hiding? And Malfoy’s missing too so he must have found Harry by now.” Her voice receded as she walked away.

But nothing could stop Harry now. His climax crashed through him like a runaway train and he gasped and shuddered in silent ecstasy, biting his lip to stop himself from yelling and giving them away. Only the strong grip of Malfoy’s free hand on Harry’s hips, holding him in place as his cock pulsed and spurted into the blond’s mouth, stopped him from collapsing with the sheer, incredible pleasure of it.

He was dimly aware of Malfoy pulling off him and moving to stand up. Then a warm body was pressed against his again, and soft, wet lips claimed his with a bitter-salty kiss. Harry was still quivering with after-shocks when he felt hot skin against his cock and fingers curling around him. He broke the kiss to look down, and moaned with pleasure when he saw that Malfoy had pushed down his trousers, and was holding his own hard cock in his fist along with Harry’s and was stroking them together.

“Fuck,” grunted Malfoy, desperation in his voice. The sound of him losing his cool made Harry feel powerful. He brought his hands down to Malfoy’s arse and ran his palms over the smooth skin, teasing the crack with his fingers. Malfoy’s hips bucked, pushing his cock into the curl of his fist as he gasped and came in hot, sticky streams over his hand and over Harry’s cock.

And then they kissed again, panting and humming into each other’s mouths until Malfoy finally pulled away and looked at Harry with a slightly dazed expression and an uncharacteristically goofy smile. He looked adorable, but Harry knew better than to comment on it. He just smiled back because he wasn’t really sure what to say.

Harry reached for his wand, feeling the need for distraction to avoid the post-orgasm awkwardness. He cast a quick cleaning charm, making both of them start slightly at the chilly sensation. They dressed in silence and straightened the piles of pillowcases and towels that had been knocked awry during their little interlude.

Malfoy took his wand and cancelled the locking spells, then turned to Harry.

“I think the others might be a little suspicious if we turn up back at the house together,” his face was unreadable. 

Harry wasn’t sure what response Malfoy was hoping for, so he took a chance. “I don’t care,” he shrugged. “If you don’t?”

A dazzling smile on the blond’s face told Harry that he’d got it right. “I couldn’t give a flying fuck what anyone else thinks, Potter.” He laughed, an unfamiliar sound of genuine happiness. “This evening was meant to be all about inter-house unity anyway. No one can accuse us of not building bridges.”

Harry grinned back at him and took a deep breath, screwing up his Gryffindor courage and taking another chance. “So, would you be interested in pursuing this? Our efforts at inter-house unity I mean?” 

Malfoy smiled again, and Harry thought that could really get used to seeing him do that more often. “Yes, Potter. I’m fully on board with that plan. In fact, I’d like to build bridges with you on a regular basis.”

“In that case,” Harry stepped forward and kissed him, just a soft quick brush of his lips, “Maybe you’d better start calling me Harry.”

“Mm... Harry,” Draco murmured the name thoughtfully, as though he was tasting something for the first time. “That might take a little bit of getting used to, but I’m sure I’ll cope.”

“Come along then, _Draco_ ,” Harry said, as he opened the door and slipped out. The name felt odd coming from his lips, but he liked it. “Let’s go and join the others for the debriefing before McGonagall sends out a search party.”

“Perhaps you can join me in my dormitory later,” Draco grinned, a wicked gleam in his eye. “And we can have a private debriefing of our own?”

**A/N: I hope you liked it. Please let me know if you did!  
I have no plans for a third part but I’m not ruling it out with this one as I’m enjoying the games theme.**


End file.
